


What Lies Below the Surface

by WhimsicalGoat



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Creepy Atmosphere, Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guilt, Hiding, Jericho (Detroit: Become Human), Kidnapping, Kinda, Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), RK Bros, Virus, with art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:03:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21951142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalGoat/pseuds/WhimsicalGoat
Summary: Recovering from a deadly virus, Markus wakes up with no idea where he is or who brought him here.Nines may the most advanced military model to date, but his own guilt and insecurities just might drag him under.With the two of them hiding out on a drowned ship, feelings of guilt and insecurity are brought to the surface. After all, the past cannot be forgotten, and neither can the dead that reside in the depths.Art done bySteampunk_Chickena.k.a Lunar.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900 & Markus
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42
Collections: New ERA Discord: Winter Big Bang





	What Lies Below the Surface

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to [Steampunk_Chicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steampunk_Chicken/pseuds/Steampunk_Chicken) a.k.a Lunar for chatting with me about this and for the amazing art! 
> 
> The theme was "Finding Home" and I had so much fun with this. This is for the Winter Big Bang being held by the folks over at the Detroit: New ERA discord. If you're not already a member, you can come say hi at https://discord.gg/GqvNzUm

An anti-virus report blinked in the middle of Markus’ vision as he rebooted, blocking out everything else. 

That wasn’t good. Usually the weekly reports were small. The only time they drew this much attention to themselves was when something was wrong. 

The rest of his systems were slow to come back online, so while he waited, he opened up the report. On August 7, 2039, his anti-virus located a potential malware and tried to quarantine the foreign code. It was overloaded, however, resulting in a full system crash. Today, on August 10th, the malware was fully purged, allowing him to reboot. 

He’d been unconscious for three days. What happened? Was this virus something he stumbled upon on accident, or was it a targeted attack? Was everyone else okay? The last thing he remembered was finally having a moment to relax and being in the middle of a friendly debate with Josh about ancient philosophers. Then, nothing. 

Markus just hoped it wasn’t a distraction for something bigger. 

He pushed the report away, focusing his power on finishing the reboot. 39% of his functions were either lagging or needed recalibration, and at least a dozen were fully offline. The virus really did a number on his systems. 

Finally, he reconnected with his limbs and sensory units—the stolen legs, eye, and audio unit taking longer than everything else to boot up, as usual, and he became aware of the world around him.

His clothes were damp. There was a steady dripping sound, and the sight that greeted him was dim light and rusty metal. 

This wasn’t Jericho. This wasn’t safety. Something was wrong, something had happened while he was unconscious. 

**ACCESSING GPS…**

**GPS DISABLED**

Markus’ stress levels ticked upwards as he sat up, scanning his surroundings. There were no windows, but sunlight filtered through a hole in the ceiling where the metal was rusted away. The angle of the entire room was skewed by a five degree angle, leaving him lying on a slight slope. Water damage was visible in several spots, and there was evidence this room hadn’t been touched in a long time—until very recently. 

If he had to guess where this was, he would say it was one of the many abandoned structures by the waterfront, ready to collapse from lack of upkeep. 

There was an empty door frame across from him, the door itself long gone from its hinges. Beyond, he could only see shadows and dark pools of water. 

**CALLING: CONNOR - RK800 313 248 315 - 52**

**CALLED FAILED - COMMUNICATIONS MODULE OFFLINE**

He tried to override the command keeping the module offline, but to no success. He couldn’t call anyone. Dread settled into Markus’ biocomponents, but his concern was more on everyone else than himself. He had to find a way out of here. He had to make sure they were okay. 

He wobbled as he got to his feet, his gyroscope slightly off and trying to account for the tilt in the room. Without waiting for the recalibrations to finish, Markus stumbled toward the doorway, steeling himself to venture out. 

He couldn’t see very far. His eyes were struggling to adjust to the darkness even without the added difficulty of his right eye acting up. A flashlight would be really nice right about now. Keeping a hand on the wall so he wouldn’t lose his balance, he started walking. 

There was water everywhere. It would make it difficult to move around quietly, and he had no idea who else might be here. Someone brought him here, and Markus doubted whoever it was would leave him alone for long. 

Something lay in the water, only a small portion of it visible above the surface. He couldn’t see any details in the darkness, but the shape of a body lying face-down was unmistakable. 

Markus stepped deeper into the pool to flip the person over when a hand gripped his shoulder. 

He turned, trying to jerk away, but the grip was tight and didn’t let go. He kicked his scanners into high gear, seeing the figure’s blue LED and the glint of green eyes. It took him a few more milliseconds to make out familiar features and for the scan to pull up a model number. 

RK900. 

Relief flooded Markus’ systems. “Nines.”

“Markus,” Nines said, concerned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to startle you. I meant to be there when you woke up, but I had to make sure we weren’t followed. How are you feeling?” 

Markus ignored the question. “Followed? What’s going on? What happened?” He gestured to the body in the water. “Who—”

“We can’t do anything for them,” Nines said, a solemn note to his voice. He pulled Markus back out of the water. “How are your systems?” 

“I can’t access my GPS or communications. I have no connections.” No way to contact outside. No way to see if everyone was okay. 

Nines was a more advanced model, he practically had firewalls for his firewalls. Maybe his systems were functional. Markus opened his mouth to ask, but Nines’ expression was one of guilt. 

“I…had to disable all of your functions that could possibly be used to track you.” 

Markus frowned. “Nines, what happened?” he asked again, more insistent this time.

Nines gestured for him to follow and began making his way back to the room Markus woke up in. Markus sent one last look at the body before following. 

Nines’ armband was dimmed to avoid drawing attention, but the white of his jacket sleeves were visible enough for the RK200 to follow. 

Most androids had ditched their uniforms as soon as they were able, but Nines kept his. Markus had initially been confused as to why he would want to keep a reminder of his slavery and wear it every day, but then he learned of its functionality. 

As a top-of-the-line military prototype, not a single detail of Nines’ design was overlooked, not even the design of his clothes. The jacket was made of an experimental reinforced material that helped keep him safe from attacks. North liked to tease him about his collar, but it provided valuable protection to his neck, one of the most vulnerable parts of the body. 

That protection was limited—it couldn’t stop a bullet, though it could slow blades and shrapnel—but in combat, every little bit helped. 

“You were attacked,” Nines explained. He moved with a surety to his steps despite the darkness, though he kept a slower pace that Markus could easily keep up with despite the occasional lag in his steps. “Someone gained remote access to your code and uploaded a virus that nearly killed you. We don’t know how they gained access yet, but we do know that whoever made an attempt on your life is going to try again.” 

“Was anyone else hurt?” 

“No. Everyone is fine,” Nines assured him. “After you collapsed, Josh took you to the repair bay. With him working to prevent more damage to your systems and Simon locating and blocking the signal the virus came from, they were able to manually clear your systems and prevent anything else from being uploaded. It took them a couple of days, however, and during that time, a sniper was sent to finish the job.” 

The RK900 stepped into the room and peered up the hole in the ceiling, the green sliding away from his eyes as they returned to their usual pale blue-gray color. 

Night vision lenses. One of the many advanced features Nines had. 

He continued his explanation. “Connor spotted him and got you out of the way, but it was a close call. The sniper escaped and no one was injured, but we were able to find evidence that the assassin was part of the Red Blood Society.”

Markus grimaced. The Red Blood Society rose shortly after the ceasefire on android-kind, a group of humans that believed the only sentient life worthy of being on this planet were the ones whose blood ran red. They claimed that was the way it had been for millenia, and it was a mistake to let that change now. Their slogan, _We Don’t Bleed the Same Color,_ had been a part of anti-android propaganda long before androids let the world know they were alive. 

The group had started out small, but their ideals were shared by too many people. The more they expressed their beliefs, the braver humans became, and the more people joined their ranks. Dave Young, the leader, had been getting more outspoken against Markus. 

Before, they had only been a thorn Markus’ side. It wasn’t until recently that they became a real threat. 

And now this. 

“Has the DPD been contacted yet? What about Jericho’s representative? President Warren—”

“It’s all taken care of,” Nines interrupted. “With this new development, Dave Young is wanted and a manhunt for the hitman he hired is underway. Officially, the DPD has you under watch in a secure location while Connor and I are in DC for negotiations.”

Clearly, that wasn’t the case. “You set a trap?” 

Nines nodded. “Indeed. Connor came up with the plan. He’s assisting the DPD to catch the hitman.”

“And you’re not helping him?” 

RK800 and RK900 were CyberLife’s most advanced combat models before the company went under. Together, they were almost unstoppable. The two were always watching each others’ backs. Why wasn’t Nines out there with Connor right now? Connor would be vulnerable on his own.

“We agreed that your whereabouts would be less noticeable with just one or two people looking after you in hiding. I was the only one Connor trusted to keep you safe in case the trap is unsuccessful.” 

Why were they standing around, then? “We have to go help,” Markus said, getting ready to leave, but Nines grabbed his arm. 

“This is for your safety, Markus. We’re to stay here until we receive the all-clear.” 

“But they’re in danger!”

“You’re in even greater danger if you leave,” Nines insisted. “They have a plan. I know you’re worried, but Connor is very good at his job. He subdued me when I was first activated, after all. Don’t doubt his capabilities.” 

Markus had seen the RK800 in action on several occasions. He knew Nines was right, but…he still worried. He understood that, as the face of the android people, he was important, but he _never_ once viewed himself as more important than anyone else. He hated the thought of anyone risking themselves for him. 

Nines must have seen that he was about to continue his protest, because he said, “If I allow you to leave and put yourself in danger, Connor won’t forgive me. Your safety is his priority, whether you like it or not. Not only that, but Simon will be angry with you and North will want my head. And Josh? He’ll give us both that disappointed look of his, because he knows you know better than that.” 

Markus wanted to argue with that, but he couldn’t. If he left, it would mess up the plan they had in place. He hated sitting around doing nothing, but Nines met his stare, not backing down. 

“You won’t let me leave, will you?”

Inclining his head, Nines replied, “I’m afraid I can’t. You know I would normally defer to your judgement, but this is one occasion in which I won’t. You need to think of your people first. They need you.” 

Conceding, Markus sat down with a sigh, stretching his legs out in front of him. He still wasn’t at 100%, but he would get there. Rest would do him good, even if he was antsy to move around.

“Where are we, anyway?”

Nines tilted his head. “I thought you would recognize it.” 

Markus wracked his processors, looking over clues he’d noticed so far as to where this could be. He knew it was abandoned, collapsing, and by the waterfront. The hole in the ceiling showed nothing but blue sky, so it wasn’t close enough to any skyscrapers for them to be visible from this angle. 

But the body in the water…it was an android. While Nines had been somber, he was neither surprised nor concerned to see it there.

It hit him. He was wrong before. This…this _was_ Jericho. This was _the_ Jericho, the freighter where it all started. This was what was left of the ship that so many androids had called home, Markus included.

“I was tasked with finding a secure location to hide you,” Nines said, “and statistically, there were many locations in the city that would be more secure in case of an attack. However, I felt the likelihood of anyone finding us here was much lower. I…apologize if I overstepped any boundaries in bringing you here. I imagine it can’t be easy.” 

Markus had been to the docks to see the remains of the ship in the past. Most of it was underwater, sunk by the explosion he set off to give everyone a chance to escape. Still, the water wasn’t deep and there were a few areas of the ship that remained above water. This must be one of them. 

How many more bodies were under their feet, taken by bullets and claimed by the depths?

“It’s fine,” he said distractedly. He couldn’t deny that Nines was right. It was a good hideout. Nines was also right in thinking it wasn’t easy being back here. 

Guilt crawled and squirmed in Markus’ biocomponents like a parasite. He should have done more to get more people off the ship before it sank, should have done something about the bodies left behind instead of leaving them to rust. 

Shortly after the revolution, he had demanded that something be done about the recycling centers and the android junkyards, and it didn’t take long for those demands to be met. However, those left on board the Jericho had been forgotten. The immediate focus had been on the living, not honoring the fallen. 

Maybe that parasite belonged in his chassis.

“It wasn’t your fault,” said Nines, breaking his chain of thought. 

Markus looked up, surprised. Was he that obvious?

“You’ve already forgiven Connor for the part he played in this ship’s destruction,” Nines continued. “And you’ve forgiven me of my own transgressions. Is it so difficult for you to forgive yourself?” 

Markus couldn’t help the bitter laughter that bubbled up his throat. He didn’t have an answer for that. 

“Have you?” he shot back at the RK900, then instantly regretted it when he saw the stricken look on Nines’ face. “Nines, I—”

“No. I haven’t.” 

Markus stared at him, struggling for words while Nines refused to meet his gaze. 

Nines kept talking. “I don’t think a single android regrets your decision to speak up and fight for freedom. You did everything you could to save all of them. You have nothing to feel guilty for.” 

“Neither do you,” Markus said softly. “You weren’t deviant yet.” 

Nines’ gaze snapped up, his eyes more cold and piercing than ever. “I could have been. The option was there, and I knew about it. I chose to remain a machine.” 

Markus stared at him. That was news to him. He’d never heard of an android knowing they could deviate at any time, and choosing not to. 

Blinking, as if just realizing what he said, Nines looked away again. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before settling on what to say. 

“I…wanted to please Amanda. I knew what she said about deviants wasn’t correct, but I didn’t want to be riddled with software instabilities. So I did what she said. And two androids are dead because of it, and North almost joined them.” 

Markus studied the RK900. He was clearly distressed, hunched in on himself and avoiding the deviant leader’s eyes. Was he afraid he would find judgement in them? 

To be honest, Markus wasn’t sure what to do about this confession. He certainly couldn’t relate, but it wasn’t good to dwell on feelings like that without talking to someone about them. Maybe Connor could understand better than Markus; he too had been under Amanda’s influence once. 

“Have you talked to Connor about it?” 

Nines frowned, like he wasn’t expecting that line of questioning. “I have,” he admitted. 

“Good.”

“If you wanted me to leave Jericho, I would understand.” 

Nines’ tone was flat, like he was holding back emotion and resigned to a fate that was already decided. It reminded Markus of a cold, abandoned church when another RK said something very similar. 

Markus hadn’t turned Connor away then, and he wasn’t about to turn Nines away now. 

“You’re not going anywhere. Not unless you want to. Jericho is your home.” 

Now Nines was the one studying Markus. “I must admit, I don’t know what that means. Intellectually, I know what a home is, but it’s supposed to have a deeper meaning that I’m afraid I don’t understand.” 

Leaning back, Markus thought about it. Home was one of those words that had a strong feeling behind it, one that everyone knew, but it held a different meaning for each person. Home might be a place to live, a place to relax and unwind, or it might be a childhood home that one hasn’t seen in years. It might be a place to belong. To many, it was a person or multiple people more than it was a place. 

To him, home was everything they built, how they had carved out a place for themselves in the world when before they had only been slaves. Home was an old painter in a wheelchair. Ideally, home was somewhere safe.

“Home is whatever you make of it. It can be whatever you want it to be.” 

Judging by the perplexed look on Nines’ face, that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “That’s not exactly helpful.” 

Markus patted the empty crate next to him. It was exhausting watching Nines stand at attention while his own limbs were still so tired. Nines looked about to protest, but conceded. 

“It can be a confusing concept for humans, but even more so for us. You’re still trying to find your place in the world. I think most of us are doing the same. I know you’ve struggled with the transition from machine to deviant more than most.” Markus paused at Nines’ frown. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. My point is, even if you still feel like you don’t belong with us in Jericho, trust me when I say that you do.”

Nines was silent for a moment, thinking it over. “I appreciate the sentiment.” 

Markus could tell that he didn’t fully believe his words, but that was okay. He would eventually. 

He gave Nines a playful nudge. “Besides, even if you can’t forgive yourself yet, just know that North’s already forgiven you. That’s a pretty impressive feat.” 

A smile tugged Nines’ lips upwards. “That’s only because I agree with her on matters of security.” He glanced over at the RK200. “I apologize for disabling your functions without your permission.”

After using his military-designed capabilities to hunt down deviants, Nines had sworn off using many of his own functions without express permission. He still seemed afraid of overstepping. 

“No, it’s okay,” Markus said. “That was a good call, I’m glad you did.” 

They fell into a companionable silence. Markus was still anxious, wishing that he could be out there helping instead of hiding in here. He didn’t like to stay idle—a trait that was shared among all three RK models, apparently. 

Even so, it was nice to have had this conversation with Nines. Markus doubted he would have opened up otherwise, and he couldn’t help but wonder what other feelings and insecurities Nines might have kept submerged below the surface where they couldn’t see. 

He also couldn’t help but feel protective of the youngest android, even if he was the most advanced prototype to date and could take down a dozen opponents without a second thought.

* * *

Five hours later, Connor contacted Nines reporting a mission success. The hitman was in handcuffs, and while Young was still at large, security would be increased and the Red Blood Society would be under scrutiny. 

Both androids were relieved to hear that there were no casualties, and only one injury. One of the officers—Tina Chen—was shot in the leg giving Connor cover, but she was expected to make a full recovery.

“Knowing her, she’ll enjoy her recovery time by watching sappy movies and eating junk food. She’ll bounce back quickly,” Nines said as they made their way through the ship. 

“I’ll be sure to send her a few boxes of donuts.” Markus remembered speaking with her a few times. She was easy to get along with, and a proud supporter of android rights. 

Nines guided him through the dark hallways where Markus couldn’t see his footing on the incline of the ship. Pretty soon, they were wading through water that only got deeper and deeper. 

“It’s just ahead,” Nines informed him. “We’ll have to go underwater to get out, but it’s a short dive.” 

With that, he dipped underwater. Markus followed, following the steady light of Nines’ LED. They swam through a hole busted in the side of the ship, and it was a relief to see the muted daylight colors filtered through muddy river water. 

Markus paused before reaching the surface, glancing back at the Jericho. It was massive, and he could only see so far before it blended in with the shadows of the deep, but he could just make out the white lettering that spelled out the freighter’s name. 

The Jericho had sheltered them for a time, kept the androids safe so they could get the ball rolling for equal rights. Before she died, Lucy had said the raid was the fall of Jericho. 

Maybe she was wrong. 

The name Jericho meant so much more than a ship now. It was a movement. The ball was rolling now and there was no stopping it. 

Markus’ head broke the surface of the water, surprised to see a speedboat headed their way, with North’s long auburn hair visibly blowing in the wind. 

They could go home now.


End file.
